n the face of
Darvid, indignant to that degree that a slight flush appeared on
cheeks generally pale.

"Folly!" hissed he, and immediately restrained himself.

"You are incurring enormous debts; on what security?"

Maryan, at least apparently, had regained perfect confidence in
himself. With eyes slightly blinking he seemed to look at a
picture on the wall.

"That is the affair of my creditors," said he. "They must have
this in view, that I am your son."

"But if I should wish not to pay your debts?"

Maryan smiled with incredulity.

"I doubt that. Such a smash-up, as refusal to pay my debts, would
injure you also, my father. Besides, the sums are not fabulous."

"How much?"

"I cannot tell the exact figure, but approximately they are--"

He mentioned figures. Darvid repeated them indifferently.

"About a quarter of a million. Very good. I shall be far from
ruin this time, but in future--I make no reproaches; for to do so
would be to lose time. What has dropped into the past is lost.
But the future must be different."

On the word must he laid emphasis again. With a quick movement he
put his glasses on his nose, and taking a cigarette from a
beautiful box, he put the end of it at the flame of one of the
candles burning on the desk. He seemed perfectly calm; but behind
his eyeglasses steel sparks flew, and the cigarette did not
ignite, held by fingers which trembled somewhat. Turning from the
desk to the table, he said:

"I will pay your debts at once; and the pension which, three
years ago, I appointed to you--that is six thousand yearly--I
leave at your disposal. But you will leave the city two weeks
from now, and go to--"

He named a place very remote, situated in the heart of the
Empire.

"In that place is an iron mill, and also glass-works; in these
two establishments I am one of the chief shareholders. You will
take the office designated by the director, who is a shareholder,
and a friend of mine; under his guidance and indications you will
begin a life of labor."

In Maryan's eyes again appeared amazement without limit; but on
his lips quivered a smile somewhat incredulous, somewhat jeering.

"What is this to be?" asked he. "Penance for sins? Punishment?"

"No," answered Darvid; "only a school. Not a school for
reasoning, for you have too much of that already; but for
character. You must learn three things: economy, modesty, and
labor."

Quenching in the ash-pan the fifth or sixth cigar